YHWH NAILGUN release 11 minutes of organised chaos

Photo by Eve Alpert

Around this time last year, I’d heard a fair bit of buzz about a band doing pretty mad things on the underground circuit of NYC, and, as a fan of instrument-driven experimental music, like Black Midi, Mandy, Indiana, and the internet’s favourite masked men, Angine de Poitrine, I just had to check them out. The first project I listened to, of the three on offer prior to Magazine, was their breakout 2025 album 45 Pounds. It took about 5 listens to grow on me, and at 20 minutes, that was nothing. 45 Pounds was defined by aggression, dark poetry, and rototom drums, which the album brought into view for me. It's a very enjoyable album, but its runtime and nature left me wanting more. Luckily, their second full-length project, Magazine only came a year after, unlike the gap between 45 Pounds and the previous release, the EP No Midwife and I Wingflap, which was 4 years.

YWHW Nailgun’s sophomore album is a furious and nuanced 11 minutes, blending punchy synths with out-of-this-world sounding guitar, and lucid, brutal drums. There’s a well-controlled anarchy to the record that builds off their previous work but focuses it more, nothing overstays its welcome and segments are stuck in your head for days. Overall, its more cinematic and there’s more ambience in the synths and abstract guitar that sort of linger, leading to a more unsettling feel than their other projects; its chilling and haunting, adding another layer to their sound.

Despite the song’s ridiculously short runtimes, it never feels like you’re missing out, as, for the most part, the endings are exceptionally well-controlled, bringing to a sharp holt the controlled minute and a bit of anarchy. The only truly bizarre ending on the album is the title track, where it very abruptly cuts off and goes straight into the next song, as if you’ve accidentally skipped it, which is a bizarre feeling, slightly undercutting the song’s brutality and impact, as it ends at 35 seconds. However, as I listened more, as the short runtime of the work invites many many listens, it fits, and it blends in really.

A very interesting choice in the marketing of the album was to not release any singles and to announce it just over a week before release. I was worried about this, to be honest, with no build-up for a still-rising experimental band’s album being a bad sign. However, when I saw the runtime and heard the songs and saw the massive free shows they’d been putting on as promo, I was completely reassured. The one-shot feel of the 11 minute runtime works in its favour, everything feels cohesive and in its place in the album, which is a massive feat for a band with such an experimental sound.

The opening track, Ghost of Love, is a standout of the album and an incredibly strong start. It boasts a funfair-like organ sound which echoes through the sound, adding a frightening neon glow to the sound. The organ just lurks in the background as the drums pound and the vocals swing, and it doesn’t really do much else, it acts as its own separate element in the song, making it even scarier sonically. Its a pretty genius creative choice, one of many across the work that show how mature the band are in both song structure and sound design.

Sewer Tree is another standout, and my favourite of the album. Its a slow-tempo number, which is pretty rare for YHWH Nailgun. Its well-paced and building, teasing something more and brutally pulling it away, sonically. The band are masters of tension in how they write and design the songs sonically; these are more than just notes in an order these are complex sonic works of art.

Across the album, the guitars, courtesy of the sublime Sanguiv Rosenstock, who produces the band, too, sound like sirens, and the production makes it feel like you’re on a bust street as they pass by, leaving you with the thoughts of where they’re going and what they want. It takes a while to realise you’re hearing guitar, most of the time, which is a massive feat in itself.

Overall, this is a haunting, complex and positively erratic body of work from NYC’s fast-rising experimental pioneers. A masterclass in song structure, tension building and sonic design, this could very well become a modern classic on the experimental front.